Secrets
by Imagination-Parade
Summary: Set between 7.07 and 7.08 - Dexter is reading his stolen copy of Sal Price's Hannah McKay novel when the poisonous beauty herself shows up announced at Dexter's apartment again. Dexter/Hannah


_Tumblr's down, so I went exploring on my computer, and I found a story I wrote and never posted! Set between 7.07 and 7.08. As always, I own nothing!_

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Dexter Morgan sat in his chair by the window, fully engrossed in his stolen copy of _Poisonous Beauty: the Hannah McKay Story_. He knew he should've deleted his copy of the research on Hannah as soon as he deleted the information from Sal Price's computer, but he couldn't completely surrender his curiosity to his growing feelings for her. Just when he was considering the idea that his original instincts were right, that he should stay away from her before he ended up like Sal Price, the devilish beauty herself knocked at his front door.

Dexter glanced out the window, back at his computer, and back at her. She was beginning to have a knack for showing up uninvited at the most inopportune times.

When she didn't receive an answer, Dexter's latest dangerous obsession knocked again. She started looking around, searching for signs of life in the darkened apartment complex, and her eyes met his through the window.

Hannah McKay gave him a sly smile and sauntered over to the window, another potted plant in her arms. Realizing her name was all over the computer screen, Dexter snapped his laptop shut as she stopped directly in front of it.

"Open the door, Dexter," she said.

"It's kind of late," he said. "I was headed to bed soon."

"It's not that late," she said.

"Early day," he fibbed. "I can stop by the nursery tomorrow if you want."

"I let you inside of me after you tried to kill me, so I think the least you can do is let me in," she said.

Deciding he really couldn't argue with that, he stood and walked over to the door. She followed from the other side of the glass, her eyes lingering on his desk. Dexter opened the door.

"Reading up on me, are you?" she asked as they came face to face.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

She used her head to gesture towards the desk. "_Love on the Run_?" she asked as she walked in. "If there's something you want to know, why don't you just ask me instead of getting your info from a writer who took more than a few liberties with his work?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Bringing me another plant?"

"Yes, but that's not why I'm here. It's supposed to be cold tonight. First cold night of the season, and the last time that happened, I ended up camped out in my greenhouse all night, worried about plants that I had already protected the best I could. I thought, this year, I could use a distraction," she explained.

"And you came here?"

"Had no where else to go," she shrugged. She placed the plant on the coffee table, shrugged out of her jacket, and made herself at home on the couch. "Next question?"

Dexter sat in the chair beside the couch. "How many?"

Without missing a beat, she replied, "Sexual partners?"

"How many people have you _killed_?" he clarified.

"Oh, _that _number. How many people have _you_ killed?" she responded immediately. He didn't move. She gave him a small smile and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what I thought. I guess we all have our secrets."

Dexter sucked in a breath as she spotted a picture of Harrison by the couch and lunged for it. She held it up to him.

"Like this," she said. "_Yours_?"

"Harrison," Dexter smiled. "He looks like his mom."

"You wanted a family, too?" she asks in the same tone she always uses when she finds something they have in common.

"We weren't trying, but he wasn't exactly…unwelcome," Dexter explains.

"Oh," she says with a nod. Hannah looks down at the picture again and smiles. "He's adorable."

"Thank you," Dexter said with a small grin.

Hannah looked around the apartment and spoke softly when she asked, "Is he _here_?"

"No," Dexter said. "No, you don't need to worry about waking him. He's in Orlando with his half-brother and sister…his mom's half."

Hannah's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "You have _three_ kids?"

"I did for a while," Dexter said. "I'm not a very good father."

She replaced the photo on the shelf. "I'm sure you're better than you think you are."

"Do you ever still want kids?" Dexter asked.

She let out a little chuckle at the idea and wistfully replied, "Maybe if I were in Argentina."

The silence hung in the air between them for a few moments before Dexter stood and walked to his kitchen.

"I'm making dinner," he said. "There's probably enough for two, if you're hungry."

"Thanks," she nodded. "My turn to ask a question?"

"I suppose that's only fair," Dexter said.

"How many people know about you?" she asked. "About what you do to girls on dates, I mean."

"That's not what I…" he started. He looked over and saw her smiling at him. "You weren't serious about that last part."

"No, but I am curious about the answer to the question," she admitted. "You can leave out the dead ones."

"You…obviously. A girl who…won't ever come to Miami again," Dexter said. "My father knew, but he took the secret to the grave. And my sister."

"Your _sister_?" Hannah asked. "Please tell me you have another sister that is not a Miami Metro Homicide detective."

"Lieutenant, actually," Dexter mumbled.

"_Lieutenant_?" Hannah asked in surprise. She sighed and repeated, "That sister?"

"The one and only," Dexter confirmed. "She caught me in the act not too long ago."

"_Shit_, Dexter," Hannah breathed.

"Not my finest moment," he admitted.

He brought her a plate of food, they ate dinner side-by-side on the couch, and conversation was easy. He was beginning to like having Hannah around. As they were finishing up their meal, he asked…

"Are you planning on spending the night?"

"Wasn't that obvious?" she replied. "Is that a problem?"

"No," he said. After a moment of silence, he added, "That sounds nice."

Dexter Morgan had never understood when people said that sex "just happened." He had never understood that, that is, until he met Hannah McKay. They couldn't seem to help themselves around one another. He hadn't expected her to come over when he started his evening. He didn't anticipate her kiss after dinner was over and he told her spending the night together would be nice. He even surprised himself when he gently pushed her down onto the couch and kept kissing her.

Hannah made a quip about liking the ability to remember him undressing her as he dragged the zipper on her jeans down its tracks. It shouldn't have been funny, yet it somehow was, and he chuckled lightly against her lips. She responded with a wily grin and a fiery kiss, and they didn't make it past the couch until much later that night.

Toweling off her curly damp hair, Hannah strolled into Dexter's bedroom naked after her late night shower. She spotted a gray t-shirt lying near the foot of his bed and picked it up. She looked it over, tossed the towel aside, and put her arms through the soft cotton sleeves.

"That's my shirt," Dexter said from the doorway. He was dressed in pajama pants. She turned to give him a quick glance and pulled the shirt over her head.

"_My_ shirt tonight," Hannah said.

His shirt fell to her mid-thighs, and she climbed into bed, curling onto her side. Dexter picked up the towel she had thrown onto the floor and draped it across a chair before joining her. He held out the arm nearest her, and she made a face.

"Really?" she asked.

"What?" he replied.

"You just don't seem like the '_come here, sweetie_' type," she said.

He leaned in, gave her a teasing smile, and jokingly said, "Come here, sweetie."

She laughed and scooted over on the mattress until her head was resting on his shoulder. Dexter tenderly ran his hand along the arm that was strewn across his bare chest and watched as she sighed, seemingly forcing herself to close her eyes.

"Worried about your plants?" he asked.

She opened one eye to glare at him. "Yeah…so thanks for bringing it up," she said, punching his chest.

"Sorry," he said. "For what it's worth, I don't mind being your…distraction."

Hannah shifted a little to reach his lips and cupped his cheek as they shared a goodnight kiss. She dragged her thumb along his skin and whispered, "I never thought I'd find someone else like me."

Dexter kissed her again and replied, "I didn't, either."

* * *

Hannah woke in the middle of the night. She unraveled herself from Dexter's sleeping embrace and quietly tiptoed into the main room. She fixed herself a glass of water and leaned against the refrigerator sipping the drink when the laptop on the desk caught her eye. Remembering how quickly Dexter had closed it when she walked by earlier, she wandered over to the desk.

She set the glass of water down and peered down the hallway, making sure Dexter was still sleeping soundly in his bed. Hannah pulled his t-shirt down as far as she could, covering her ass as best she could before sitting down in front of his computer. She opened the laptop and pressed the button, waiting for the machine to wake up from its sleeping state. Snapping the laptop shut meant it hadn't shut down properly. She smiled as the screen popped up exactly how he'd left it when she had walked in. The smile faded as she realized Dexter had been reading an early draft of Sal Price's Hannah McKay novel.

"Took care of it, my ass," she muttered, scrolling through a few pages of the document.

She didn't take the time to read what the late author had written. She didn't really care what it said. She cared that Dexter had lied to her. He told her the research had been deleted, and maybe it had…from Price's computer. But there it was…all safely copied onto Dexter Morgan's portable drive.

With another glance towards the bedroom, she pulled the drive out of the laptop and quickly scanned his computer files for other copies of the information on her. Finding none, she stood and slipped the drive into the back pocket of the skinny jeans that still lay flung across the center living room table, vowing to smash it to smithereens when the noise wouldn't wake the man in the other room. She knew that he'd probably realize she had taken it, but if anyone would understand self-preservation, it'd be him.

Hannah headed back down the hallway, intending to climb back into bed with Dexter. Her mind was swimming with the meaning behind the hidden files on his computer and the inadvertent interrupting of his studying of her. On second thought, she headed back into his kitchen, her fingertips running over the end of each of the knives by his stove. She selected one of the smaller ones and pulled it from its sheath, admiring the sharp blade in the moonlight pouring in from the window across the room.

Knives weren't her thing. Not anymore. But it would work, should the need arise. She looked the weapon over again and sighed, hoping the need wouldn't arise.

The knife dangled by her side as she headed back to bedroom. Hannah settled back into Dexter's still-open arms, lacing her fingers with his as if nothing had changed since she left the warm bed. He unconsciously leaned into her hair, and she slipped the knife underneath her pillow, planning to put it back in its place while he wasn't looking in the morning, just in case he had also lied about no longer planning to kill her.

After all…a girl's got to protect herself.

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_Thanks for reading! :)_


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